


Smoke and Ash

by theorangewitch



Series: Angstober [12]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, Bastard Dad, Gen, Major trigger warnings for parental abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 22:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16313450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorangewitch/pseuds/theorangewitch
Summary: Catriona never asked her daughter how the lesson went, because she knew the answer. Instead, she read her stories. They were fairy tales, usually. Always something with a happy ending.





	Smoke and Ash

**Author's Note:**

> Day 15 - Helplessness. Raven is an older character of mine. In case you didn't read the tags, serious warning for parental abuse, mostly emotional but partially physical as well. 
> 
> As usual, the link to the full Angstober challenge is in the author's note of the first work in this series.

On the day her mother fell ill, Raven Shanahan went to go see her after her magic lesson. It was a routine she’d fallen into after her mother was banned from viewing said magic lessons. It became routine as Raven’s magical ability failed to reveal itself and the lessons turned more and more disastrous with each passing month. On that day, she hadn’t been able to visit her mother right away. She and her twin sister Aoife had had another sparring match that had ended in catastrophe. Aoife favored fire, as all the Shanahans had before her.

This was the second time Aoife had seriously burned her sister. 

Aoife never meant to hurt Raven. Or so she said. “It’s sparring,” she said. “Father says I have to. I have to win.”  _ So he doesn’t hurt me the way he hurts you,  _ she didn’t say.

On some level Raven sympathized, but the words were beginning to ring more and more hollow the worse Braden Shanahan’s treatment of his less talented daughter became. 

On that day, Aoife had wrapped her hand around her sister’s shoulder and cast  _ burning hands _ , leaving a palm print in a bubble of ugly pink skin. Raven had howled in pain as the fire burned through her dress, the embers curling away the expensive green fabric into ash. Aoife had instantly drawn away and cried, “I’m sorry!”

In Aoife’s defense, with no magic and no weapons, desperate to win just one sparring match, Raven had been choking Aoife out at the time. Their father had been looking on with a cool disappointment, waiting for Aoife to retaliate against her sister’s physical fighting. Aoife never did until the last minute, and Raven sometimes wished she would attack back sooner, and end the fight with less desperation behind her magic. 

Braden had dismissed Aoife without another word and then sent the guard outside the door for a cleric for Raven’s shoulder. Then he’d turned to Raven. “This wouldn’t happen if you could do magic, you know,” he pointed out. 

“I know,” Raven said, clutching her shoulder, not looking him in her eye.

“I know you hate me.”

She didn’t honor him with a reply.

“But I am doing what is best for you. You are a Shanahan, and my daughter. I will unlock your potential. I have sworn myself to it.”

But Raven knew that there was no potential within her. She could feel no magic flowing through her veins, no fire burning in the pit of her stomach. She was powerless. Braden had realized that a long time ago, and whether he was an intense state of denial or was merely using this as an excuse to punish her for her lack of skill, for being an embarrassment to the family name. 

After Braden had left and the cleric had come he reduced the pain and swelling of the burn before leaving her with a chunk of ice wrapped in cloth to put on her shoulder. Raven gritted her teeth through the pain of the cold against the hot pain of her burn. 

And then, still clutching the ice to her shoulder, she went so see her mother. It was midmorning by this point, and her mother was often up and about by this point, haunting the halls of the Shanahan manor in a silent haze. But after magic lessons were over, Catriona Shanahan always returned to her room to wait for Raven.

Catriona never asked her daughter how the lesson went, because she knew the answer. Instead, she read her stories. They were fairy tales, usually. Always something with a happy ending. Catriona hadn’t known how to read when she married Braden, but he’d hired a tutor for her soon after she got pregnant. 

“You know I’m fine with your more...rustic upbringing,” he’d told her. “But the mother of my children should at least know how to read.”

She still wasn’t the smoothest reader, but Raven didn’t mind. She had a beautifully lilting voice that Raven loved to hear. When she read to her about fairies and dragons, about far off lands of strange fruits and cloudless skies, Raven could picture them as if they were in the room with her. 

But on this day when Raven burst into her mother’s room, her father was there, standing over Catriona’s bed. Catriona’s mousy brown hair lay unwashed and spread messily over the pillow, and dark circles were carved under her eyes. Her skin was even paler than usual, and her cheeks had taken on a sunken shape.

“Get out, Raven,” Braden ordered. 

“What’s wrong with Mama?” Raven asked. 

“She’s not well,” he said curtly. “Get out so she can rest.”

“Let her in,” Catriona said, her lilting voice faint. 

“No,” Braden told her. “Go to your room, Raven.”

“No!” Raven pouted. “I want to see her!” 

“Raven,” Braden growled, storming over towards her. He grabbed her by her arm—her injured arm, no less—causing her to cry out in pain. He dragged her down the hall towards her room and threw her inside. “You’ll stay here until you can behave,” he said. Then he locked the door. 

“No!” Raven yelled, pounding on the door. “Let me out! Let me out!” She pounded on and off for hours, but no one came. Once or twice she heard footsteps approaching, but she always heard them turn around again. She banged her fists against the door until she had splinters embedded in her hands. 

Night fell. No one came to bring her dinner. After the moon had risen the lock turned and Aoife peeked her round, pale face around the door. It was funny. Aoife and Raven were identical, but in this moment, they’d never looked more different. 

“Do you wanna see Mother?” Aoife asked. 

Raven nodded. 

Aoife stood aside, opening the door for her sister. Raven stormed past her and ran down. She burst into her mother’s room. Cartriona was awake, reading by the lamplight. She didn’t read on her own often, but Raven could tell that she was enraptured by the book.

Catriona looked up as Raven entered. She still looked sick, although she looked better than earlier. “Oh, Raven Girl,” she said, scooting over in the bed. “I didn’t get to read to you today.”

“What’re you reading, Mama?” Raven asked, crawling into bed with her mother. 

“The Daring Adventures of Sir Dakovash,” Catriona said. “I found it in your father’s library. It’s a very funny story about a stupid man who thinks he’s a knight. Would you like me to read it to you?”

Raven nestled down against her mother’s shoulder, curling up against her warmth. “Yes, please.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Raven and Aoife will return on Day 22 - Eye for an Eye, and you can BET it's gonna be Braden's eye.


End file.
